Explaining Racism in Palestine

Yesterday two really tragic things occurred:
Near the Sea of Galilee, the church that pays tribute to Jesus feeding the 5,000 was gutted, vandalized, and burned. The Israeli teens who were suspected as responsible were arrested, and later released.

And in South Carolina a pastor and eight of his congregants (all of whom were black) were gunned down by a white man who were attending a prayer service.

Both of these bear a parallel to something I have been reflecting on frequently during my time in The West Bank. The idea that there is a presence of a privileged, dominant, power elite in both Palestine (I use this term for the entire region, not just the occupied territories--sorry) and in the Unites States is one that is not easily ignored. And it would be a lie for me to assume that being convicted deeply about one excuses us from being convicted about the other.

What was surprising to me yesterday, in the wake of both of these tragedies, was that the elitism of the crimes was severely overlooked.

Attacks are attacks and terror is terror. And just because those responsible are white, hold power, and have the privilege to express their frustration with such violence without it reflecting the morals of their entire community, does not mean we should not begin to be critical.

Two weeks ago I sat in a bar with some of my co-workers and I brought up the Black Lives Matter movement and my experience visiting Ferguson with the North Park Sankofa trip this past February. My American counterparts engaged in dialogue about this openly, with support. My Palestinian coworkers didn't understand.
"you have a black president," "what about MLK?" and "what do you mean there are still such extreme tensions between the communities?" have been common responses to this discussion.

It's been strange educating my host brother about the ways that the occupation parallels our own militant policing structure in the US. While Palestine has roadmaps, the US has pipelines. Segregation exists as a policy in both places.

It's been strange feeling like in both incidents yesterday what happened was viewed as a random occurrence and not a symptom of a greater problem.

It is impossible for me to sit here and not think about what would have occurred had the roles been reversed in either case:

If a black man had assassinated a white representative, a pastor, and seven others in a prayer service: the media would be feasting on the crime. The concept of mental health would be absent from the conversation all together.
If Palestinian Christians had torched a synagogue yesterday: Israel likely would have responded with tanks and guns and arrests would have already been made. Imagine if it had been Muslim Palestinians who attacked a synagogue. It would have been another nail in the casket of Islamaphobia and westernized misconceptions of Arab violence.
In a reversed situation the crimes would have affirmed concepts of prejudice which led to these crimes being committed in the first place.

What I'm saying is that because the powerful individuals were the ones who committed the crimes--our reporting and response has become muted. Blurbs go out, updates are made. But where is the outcry?
Why are we not holding ourselves accountable and doing more to speak for the vulnerable victims in these situations?
How many more buildings do we have to lose, how many more people have to die? What is the cost we are willing to pay for living in a myth of dominant-narrative self-determination?

I'm frustrated by this. I'm frustrated that in both places where my heart lies--there is silence. There is submissive victim-hood. There is misguided frustration.

I am frustrated. The end.